


What is Love?

by GeeLiz_98



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Aromantic, Drag Queens, Engagement, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned SHINee Ensemble, OT9 (EXO), Secret Relationship, Tattooed Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Trans Male Character, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeLiz_98/pseuds/GeeLiz_98
Summary: Spend Valentine's Day with EXO members in an alternate universe and discover what love means to them.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	1. Love is Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a drabble -_- jjhdfhhfghjdf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seho xxx

“Why the fuck does this bar still use CDs?” 

There were roughly 30 minutes to go until showtime and Sehun still hadn’t chosen his music. There was always the choice to fall back onto the classics, of course, the songs he danced to every night of his life but he felt the need to switch things up for once. After all, it was a special occasion. 

The only snag in his plan was that he was performing that night in a dive bar down some grotty alley that clearly hadn’t had a revamp since the 1970s. Perhaps he expected too much by wishing he could connect his phone or at least an iPod to a docking station but the lack of both of those things was an inevitability; the owner had only agreed to install a proper speaker system 5 years ago. Prior to that, queens were carting around crappy CD players like they were their own roadies. 

“Oh, there he goes again!” One of the older men called from across the backroom, his voice carrying clearly over the din with no effort, “the baby doesn’t know the technology of the bygone years! Honestly, kids these days don’t know they’re born!” 

The voice was that of Kibum, a man in his 30s who Sehun often bumped into at these bars. Unlike the rest of the men in the dressing room, he wasn’t a drag queen, he was some kind of kinky dancer who always turned up with a bag of whips and leather. Sehun had never watched his act lest it taint him. 

“Give over Kibum! Just because you’re a hag,” another one of the men called back with no bite to his words at all, "give Sehunnie a break!”

The man in question, Junmyeon, headed over to Sehun and dragged another box of CDs down from the shelf on which they were all stored. With deft movements of his hands, he flicked through the discs, his glossed black nails catching the light on the ceiling before he came across what he was looking for. 

“Aha! Now, this is a classic,” he proclaimed, passing a CD to Sehun with a flourish. 

Junmyeon was another regular performer on Sehun’s circuit and he was much softer and more accommodating than the rest of the men Sehun came across. The other queens and dancers were often far too rough around the edges, kind but harsh, loving but only ever with an iron fist and so Sehun found them difficult to keep up with at times. Their sharp tongues and fierce witticisms never failed to blow Sehun away, even after two years in their company, but he wasn’t quite at the level to meet them eye to eye yet.

Junmyeon, on the other hand, was far more understanding of Sehun’s misshapen identity as a budding drag queen and was always willing to lend a helping hand. 

“This song never fails to get those guys out there moving,” he explained with an air of wisdom, “it might age them slightly and it certainly isn’t your thing but, hey! Money is money.”

Sehun took the disc from his hands and studied the cover. Gloria by Laura Branigan, a song he had heard but would never dream of performing to. His style was more in the realm of modern classics, sometimes a bit of ballad work if the crowd was particularly lackadaisical and uninterested.

“How is this going to get me tips? I’ll send them to sleep! I was lip-syncing to Dua Lipa yesterday, they’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

Junmyeon scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head. “How old are you again?” 

“Twenty-one!” Sehun announced with pride. Finally, he was old enough to get into all of the bars in all of the countries of the world, providing him with a serious sense of achievement. His dream was to perform in America, maybe Vegas where the money was bountiful. For now, he would just have to deal with dive bars hidden up the side streets of Seoul. 

“Shit, you really are a baby…” Junmyeon seemed a little put out by this but quickly recovered and dragged Sehun over to the back door which led into the main room. 

The entire bar was decked out in an ostentatious amount of red decor; red tinsel curtains acting as the stage background, red balloons, red napkins that would not be used for anything savory. It was tacky and disgusting but what else could one expect on valentine's day? It would almost be rude not to!

“Who is going to come here on Valentine’s day?!” Sehun lamented, unable to control his outrage. He had mouths to feed - well, one mouth - and he had school supplies he needed to purchase by the next Monday. If he didn’t make a killing that night he was screwed. “I’d have been better off showing them my dick on the door for a couple of quid!”

That earned him a smack over his still bare shoulder. He still hadn’t thrown on his dress so he was standing in his shorts and a thin vest. 

“Oi! Don’t you dare!” Junmyeon sounded deadly serious, reminiscent of Sehun’s mother who, in fact, had lost so much interest in her own son that she wouldn’t even bother to scold him anymore. “I’d sooner give you my cut than have you pulling that crap!”

The pout that sprung onto Sehun’s mouth was involuntary and like that of a petulant child but he couldn’t help himself. There was something undeniably undignified about having to consider the prospect of leeching money from somebody else because making money on his own was such a challenge. He longed for the day when he could walk home with a wad of notes in his rucksack, just as Kibum did, and didn’t have to worry about where his next meal would come from. 

“Hmmm,” Junmyeon vocalised obnoxiously so as to draw Sehun’s attention, “I have just remembered! I didn’t bring the right wig for today’s performance so I can’t go on for my slot.”

Knowing what he was doing, Sehun turned on his heel ready to launch into his protest. Sure, he was young and inexperienced but he wasn’t a charity case. He had earned his spot on that stage just as much as everyone else had and he was going to make his way up the ladder just as they all had. 

Sensing his reluctance Junmyeon leaned his head on Sehun’s shoulder and spanned a fanned out hand across the empty room and spoke in a majestic tone, “look at this! This could all be yours for one night only! A room packed to the rafters with singletons, a lonely hearts club if you will, each one of them willing to throw their hard-earned cash at the pretty boy in the wig!” He grabbed Sehun by the shoulders and spun him around to look into his eyes, “just take me up on my offer, Sehun. Sell your fantasy and do it with your head held high. It’s okay to accept handouts sometimes, you know.”

Now, this was something Sehun didn’t agree with. If there was one thing he had vowed to do the day he decided he was leaving home and never going back, it was that he would be entirely self-sufficient. Gone were the days when he relied on other people because other people always let him down. His mother had told him he wouldn’t last five minutes out in the big wide world, all on his own. Sehun would prove her wrong if it was the last thing he did.

“I can’t accept that,” he said even though it was difficult for him to turn something like that down. 

The other man sighed but didn’t argue. There was no point because once Sehun had his mind set on something, it was very difficult to change it. Hence why he left home when he was but 17; he had dreams, amazing things he wanted to achieve and somebody he wanted to be and if his parents were going to get in the way of him doing those things and blossoming into himself, he wasn’t about to stick around. He had already sacrificed so much, some may say too much for the sake of dancing on stage in grimy bars night after night, but it wasn’t nearly as much as he was willing to give. 

Then Junmyeon chuckled, ruffling Sehun’s hair like a mother doting on her child. There was something about the affection shown by the older queens that was undeniably parental; they demanded he eat well, they kept a watchful eye on him when he was working to make sure that he wasn’t getting into any bother with patrons, and they always made sure he got home safely. 

“You remind me so much of myself, Sehun,” Junmyeon said wistfully, remembering his younger self as he looked into Sehun’s eyes, “I was determined to make it in this world on my own, as well. I had spent my youth battling so much by myself, just like you. I was nowhere near as brave as you, Sehun-ah. 15 years ago I walked through the doors to this place, looking for someone to take me on board but I walked straight back out again.”

“If it wasn’t for me,” Kibum butted in, “I doubt he would have ever come back.”

Junmyeon baulked at this, disputing the idea that Kibum was somehow his saving grace. Except it was probably true, sometimes you just need that little push over the threshold to help you to take those last few steps. Even that push was something Sehun wouldn’t accept. 

“I think what Junmyeon is trying to say,” Kibum elaborated, “is that you need someone to take you on board. You’ve come this far on your own and you should be so proud of yourself.”

“But it’s time to let someone help you out,” Junmyeon completed the sentiment with a generous smile, “because we’re a family here. Don’t think of it as charity because what’s mine is yours.”

Sehun was taken aback by the man’s words. To him, the other men were people he admired and looked up to immensely but he never once considered that the affection also flowed the other way. If anything, Junmyeon’s generosity was overwhelming. Never before had Sehun been shown such kindness and grace. 

“I, I don’t know what to say...it just feels like too much…”

“Well, if that’s too much,” Junmyeon paused to reach into his pocket for something, “you best prepare yourself for what I’m about to say next.”

At that, he was brandishing a golden key, waving it in front of Sehun’s face. 

“What’s that for? I don’t need a key for this door because I know the code for the one around the back.”  
  


Junmyeon shook his head. “No, no, no. See, a little birdy told me-”

“Jongin! Jongin told him,” Kibum snitched, his reflection in the mirror looking mighty smug as he pencilled in his sharp eyebrows.

“Okay. Yes. Jongin told me that you are living alone,” seemingly, the prospect of that made Junmyeon really heartbroken if the cracks in his usually cheerful demeanor were anything to go by. “So, it’s no wonder you’re struggling. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sehun thought the answer was pretty obvious. First of all, he didn’t want anyone worrying about him and his less than desirable financial standing. Equally, he had a lot to prove. Mostly to himself. 

“I just didn’t think it would matter,” Sehun admitted, avoiding Junmyeon’s horrified expression, “Jongin only found out because he had to drop off some makeup a few months back. Look,” he took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, “it’s honestly fine. I’m coping.”

“Not good enough! We want more than coping in this house! We want to see you flourish.”

The older man grabbed onto his hand and placed the key into it before manoeuvring Sehun’s hand into a tight fist.

“You matter to us and we aren’t going to watch you struggle for one day more. Think of it as a valentine’s gift,” he winked at that, “show slot and a new bed. What do you say? Bear in mind there is only one correct answer.”

Sehun honestly couldn’t find the words. Was it really that simple? All of his worries and all of his stress could be taken away, quick as a flash, and it was as simple as accepting the piece of metal gathering heat in his clenched fist. Frankly, he would be foolish to turn it down.

“Are you serious?” 

The moment Junmyeon nodded, Sehun’s lower lip began to tremble. 

The older man pulled Sehun into a tight hug, not without giggling at his dramatic outburst. Sehun couldn’t help himself, though. After years of struggling on his own, someone had taken the leap and offered to lift some of the weight from his shoulders. While part of him felt a sense of guilt towards giving up, the rest of him swelled with relief, with love, and with gratitude. 

“From now on, you come to us if you need anything. Promise?” 

Sehun nodded furiously and was about to thank Junmyeon over and over again but was interrupted by the door flying open with a bang. 

In walked none other than Park Chanyeol, the physical embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. He wasn’t a member of staff at the bar, nor was he a performer but he was the housemate of Junmyeon and Kibum - and Sehun now, the young man supposed with a flutter of excitement and nervous anticipation - which sort of gave him a free pass. 

“For fucks sake, Junmyeon,” he scolded in his deep and booming voice, friendly but intimidating all the same, “what have I told you about making the little ones cry?”  
  


Sehun was majorly offended by the implication that he was somehow young when Chanyeol was barely pushing 25 himself. Sure, he was older but he wasn’t anywhere near Junmyeon’s 35 years or Kibum’s 37, ages that seemed so distant to him he could hardly picture himself getting that far. 

“I’m 21, Chanyeol! I’m not little,” he disputed, fully aware of how childish he sounded which did nothing for his case. 

“Aw! Sure you aren’t,” Chanyeol smiled in a patronising fashion before moving towards the door on the other side of the room.

“What have I told you about using this as a shortcut?!” Junmyeon scolded him for what felt like the thousandth time. Every week, Chanyeol would leave through the dressing room fire exit so he didn’t have to talk to the doorman on his way out (he had slept with him a few times too many and couldn’t bear the awkward interaction), and every week Junmyeon would tell him not to like some kind of camp rendition of groundhog day.

“Oh give over, babe,” Kibum decided to fight Chanyeol’s corner which only served to make everyone a little suspicious. He probably wanted something because Kibum never turned down the chance to have a dig at Chanyeol. According to him, Chanyeol’s attractiveness was ‘offensive’ and a ‘barrier to work’. Sehun wondered if Kibum was just too horny to focus when Chanyeol was in his proximity. “He’s off to see his sugar daddy, aren’t you, doll?”

“He is NOT my sugar daddy!” Chanyeol fumed at that, as he always did like a record playing on a loop.

“Is he rich?” 

“Yes.”  
  


“Is he old?”

“Older. Older than me but he isn’t actually old so-”  
  


“So, he is your sugar daddy,” Junmyeon chipped in innocently but very unhelpfully. 

Chanyeol looked like he was about to explode but it didn’t take much for him to snap. He wore his heart on his sleeve for sure. 

“Just because I am young enough to get a sugar daddy! You are old enough to BE a sugar daddy! Isn’t that what you are anyway!? To Sehun? You have feelings for him but he’s too young for you so you shower him with money and house keys and don’t think no one has noticed your performance minutes going down and his going up!” 

As soon as he had said it, Chanyeol clearly regretted it if the tightness of his lips was anything to go by but it was too late. 

“Now, ladies,” Kibum dissuaded further cattiness, “Is there really any need? What the fuck was that for, Chanyeol?”  
  


Chanyeol looked mortified but not as mortified as Junmyeon. 

“Is...he telling the truth?” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

Both Chanyeol and Junmyeon responded simultaneously but while Chanyeol attempted to clean up the mess he had created, Junmyeon decided to take the plunge. 

“Yes,” Junmyeon repeated himself again, making sure that he was heard loud and clear, “well, not the sugar daddy part. The...like you part. I kind of like you, Sehun.”

In the two years that Sehun had known Junmyeon, he didn’t think the older had ever looked so vulnerable. Standing there in that room, Junmyeon looked ever so small, folding in on himself under the weight of his secret and Sehun felt the surprising urge to reach out and comfort him. Just as Junmyeon had comforted him.

So he did. Just as Junmyeon had taken Sehun into his arms, Sehun did the same. Not once had he doubted Junmyeon’s intentions. The man was as transparent as polished glass and couldn’t hide an unsavoury motive if his life depended on it. Perhaps his feelings ran deeper than Sehun had first thought but his kindness was nothing short of pure. 

“It’s okay, Junmyeon,” Sehun whispered into his ear, even though the others had since left the room. The moment felt too private and intimate for fully voiced words, “I believe you and I trust you and I don’t mind. I’m not mad.”

Junmyeon pulled back, his eyes slightly red and brimming with worry. “Are you sure? It feels like some kind of abuse of power to just...invite you to live in my house and then...I never wanted you to find out like this. Or ever, really.”

Sehun thought for a moment, before speaking again. “Is it really such a bad thing that I did find out? You said so yourself, these things are for sharing. What is mine is yours. So what if I told you that I kind of like you, too?” 

Doubt flashed past Junmyeon’s features but it was soon replaced with bashfulness and a dusted blush across his cheeks.

To Sehun, having a crush on Junmyeon was an inevitability. He was incredibly handsome, super-intelligent, and caring to a fault. Anyone could see that he was the perfect recipe for instant feelings. But Sehun had never entertained the idea given that Junmyeon was always so preoccupied with his mountain of responsibilities. Until now. 

In order to prove that his words were sincere, Sehun tentatively leaned forward and placed his lips just to the left of Junmyoen’s own, making a silent promise without taking things too far too quickly. The smile creeping onto Junmyeon’s face as a result made the kiss more than worth it.

“Can we talk about this?” Junmyeon asked, ever the sensible one.

“Later. When we get home. To our home,” Sehun emphasised, hardly able to believe the sudden change in his life’s trajectory. “But first, someone gave me his slot so I ought to get out there.” He sighed in exasperation as though working for an extra 30 minutes was somehow a burden when really, he loved nothing more than being on stage. 

Junmyeon nodded and kissed Sehun softly on the cheek. 

“Whoever he is, he must care about you a lot.”


	2. Love is Unpredictable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaisoo!

After taking no more than ten steps across the threshold and into the bar, Kyungsoo was already half debating going back home again. 

The general purpose of dragging his single ass out on Valentine’s Day was to go to a bar where he would be anonymous and plunged in darkness so that he could get pissed to his heart’s content and forget all of his misery. If only for one night, Kyungsoo needed a break from the noise in his mind and what better way to do that than to drown himself in loud music, blinding lights and alcohol? 

Something he hadn’t anticipated was the presence of drag queens and ugly Valentine's decorations lining the walls and ceilings of the place. Would no one spare him the unpleasantries of being reminded that no one loved him? 

Even at work, all day long, couples had been walking into the tattoo parlour with stars in their eyes, talk of the future on their lips. All of them had the same genius idea of inking their love into their skin for the world to see. After the fifth matching hearts or lock and key combo, Kyungsoo was ready to lock up the shop and vomit all over the place. 

Blasting over the speakers was the shrill, nauseating sound of 80s pop music, catering to a crowd of patrons crawling around the drag queen on stage like moths to a flame. Kyungsoo couldn’t see the appeal if it; of any of it. He didn’t like the deafening music or the drag queens moving their mouths silently along to the music of someone else. What was the point? Long ago, Kyungsoo had accepted these things as being part and parcel when one was gay. But that was when he had someone who encouraged him to love those things. Now that he was on his own, the whole experience had lost its charm. 

Trudging over to the bar with a blatant frown, Kyungsoo kept his head down and made an attempt to block out the words from the speakers. 

Clearly, his feelings towards the atmosphere of the place could be read like a book because even the barman looked at him pitifully.

“Not a fan of female pop icons?” The young man asked with an understanding smile as he wiped down the bar. 

Not that Kyungsoo wanted to profile the guy but he didn’t look like the sort to like pop epics either. Kyungsoo recognised him as Taemin, a guy who often came to the shop to have something done whether it was a piercing or another tattoo. Grey and black patterns spiralled up both of his arms and Kyungsoo had intel that the same patterns and intricate shapes crawled along his back, too. This he knew because he had designed them. 

“Not really,” Kyungsoo grunted, bringing his forearms up so that he could slouch on the bar, “I just like alcohol. Can I have a vodka and coke?”

Taemin nodded and turned to grab the bottle down from the self. 

“So, I don’t think we’ve seen you around here,” Taemin made polite conversation, his voice straining over the Queen song now being screamed at the top of everyone’s lungs, “I didn’t think this was your type of thing, to be honest. You're always blasting metal at the shop.”

Taemin had got it in one, of course. This wasn’t Kyungsoo’s thing but it was his ex-boyfriend’s thing and on the night of love, Kyungsoo just wanted to feel a little bit closer to him. It was stupid and he knew that now, especially now that he had seen the heart-shaped sequins littering the bar surface and could hear the love ballad being sung from the stage. 

“I came here once, years ago. I was probably still a teenager to be quite honest.” He smiled at the memory against his will. The image of being dragged into the bar by his boyfriend before they were even official. In amongst the sweaty bodies, the booze in their systems, and the adrenaline, they had shared their first kiss. It was years before their second but Kyungsoo cherished that moment so dearly. It’s funny how a place that holds such good memories can feel so empty and strange to him.

As the night drew on and the alcohol really began to flow, Kyungsoo felt a little looser and less uptight, less in his head. The music had shifted to more mindless, droning tunes, perfect for losing yourself in, a great combination with the strobing lights which would help him truly block out the world around him.

After taking one last sip of his drink, Kyungsoo placed his glass on the bar and made his way over to the dance floor. 

The music was insufferably loud and the lights were too bright but they both numbed his senses just enough to allow him to lose himself. He couldn’t count the number of bodies he had collided with, nor the number of men who had tried to make advances. The air was so humid and hot that he could hardly breathe, forcing him to elevate his arms above his said to allow some air to circulate. 

The free flowing movements of his arms and his upper body as the spinning music began to mute his mind allowed him to disconnect from himself and his troubles and his worries until he was just dancing. Until he became one with the music. Eyes shut and breathing deeply, he finally felt at peace.

From behind, Kyungsoo felt arms slink around his back and hands found purchase on his hips. Strangely, the feeling of someone else connecting with his body, which felt as though it was floating above the floor, was rather grounding. Kyungsoo liked the solidness over another body pressing against his own. If he were sober he wouldn’t have stood for it but in his inebriated state, all his mind could think was how lonely he felt, how much he needed the touch of someone else, how much he needed someone to hold him close to the ground. 

Without thinking too much about it, Kyungsoo leaned his head back and rested it on the other person’s shoulders, simultaneously bringing his hand to reach behind him and hold the back of the stranger’s neck. He took note of their short hair and the sheen of sweat covering their hot skin. Kyungsoo couldn’t breathe at all now but not because of the moisture in the air. 

“I saw you from across the room,” the stranger said, their voice nasally but deep, their breath scorching on Kyungsoo’s sensitive neck, “and I had to see you properly for myself.”

Not able to bear it any longer, Kyungsoo spun around without letting go of the neck he was holding onto and stared the stranger in the face. What he saw knocked him sober in seconds. 

He was faced with a man so beautiful he could give Adonis a run for his money. His hair sat just below his ear, a little too scraggy and a little overgrown but a gorgeous lilac colour which melded with the ever-shifting colour of the overhead lights. His features were sharp, his jaw intense as though it were sculpted by hand, while also possessing a certain tenderness. His cheeks were on the softer side and dusted from the heat in the room. His lips were sinfully plump and Kyungsoo couldn’t stop himself from licking his own lips from the decadent notion of taking that mouth into his own.

The man seemed cocky and overly sure of himself. Well, he must have been to simply approach a stranger in a crowded room and expect him to bend to his whim. Kyungsoo would have to admit, the guy was self-aware. 

“Like what you see?” 

Kyungsoo was stunned by his arrogance but he had to nod. He had to confirm the man’s suspicions by pulling him in closer to him and slotting their bodies together until they moved as one.

“You’re a cocky bastard,” Kyungsoo quipped, not phased enough to pull away. He placed his arms around the man’s waist and was surprised to make contact with exposed skin. The guy was dressed in a short white crop top emblazoned with an English phrase Kyungsoo couldn’t understand but he wasn’t interested in that. No, Kyungsoo was entirely fixated on the man’s toned body. He wasn’t overly muscular but he was obviously someone who cared about his own appearance. And it paid off. 

The man didn’t protest. Instead, he brought his lips to tease the side of Kyungsoo’s neck, barely making enough contact to call it a kiss but it was maddening all the same. 

In a sudden loss of inhibitions, Kyungsoo moved himself over the man’s thigh and began to put pressure on his own hardening member, instantly pulling away, fearing he had overstepped. 

“Don’t stop,” the man begged into his neck, “you were just getting to the good part.” 

So, Kyungsoo continued. The song melted into the next, captivating piece of music and the two men continued to grind their bodies together, with no regard for the pace of the baseline pumping out of the speakers. All that mattered was the rhythm they had created, as though they had both rehearsed it beforehand. 

Kyungsoo ached for more than simply moving their bodies together. Desperately, he ached for the closeness that this man could provide him. He ached for him to fill him up and take over control of his body so that, for just that night, Kyungsoo didn’t have to. Kyungsoo thirsted for more from his lips - those LIPS - that were currently torturing him as they sucked hungrily on the skin in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. 

Forcing his words out between animalistic pants, Kyungsoo finally managed to ask, “can we take this elsewhere? Do you know a place?”

The man appeared a little uncertain at first but whatever doubt he had quickly dissipated. Without further elaboration, he took Kyungsoo’s hand and pulled him through the room. Far too disorientated by the aggressive lighting, Kyungsoo was being led blindly and even though it was stupid, he was too lustful to care and he just allowed himself to be dragged along.

They stopped at the door to one of the back rooms at the bar, a battered-looking door with chipped paint and taped glass. The bar really had seen better days. Even the door handle was difficult to work open and the man had to let go of Kyungsoo’s hand to force it.

As soon as they were secluded in the empty room with the door locked from the inside, the man backed Kyungsoo against the door and crashed his lips onto Kyungsoo’s own. 

All of Kyungsoo’s short-lived dreams came true at once and he felt like he was ascending to heaven. The man kissed like no one he had ever kissed before and he had a way of making Kyungsoo feel like the only person on earth, as though he was the only person the man wanted to kiss, as though he mattered. In that moment, Kyungsoo felt like he mattered.

Overcome with emotion and lust, Kyungsoo began to move his hands downwards, past the man’s midriff and further. He wanted to take it further but, of course, he hesitated over the waistband of the man’s jeans, waiting for confirmation.

“No,” the man said gently but simply as he separated their lips just briefly before diving back in. He took Kyungsoo’s hand into his own and held them both against Kyungsoo’s hip. 

Kyungsoo was a little bit put out and a tad self-conscious at the rejection but he tried to push his insecurities out of his mind. The mere proximity of another man should have been enough. Except it dawned on him that he was only in this for one thing and the realisation made him awash with guilt. 

“Ah shit.” He pulled his head away from the other man’s and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t bear to look at the other man’s reaction to being wanted for nothing but his dick. Kyungsoo felt like a dick.

Kyungsoo heard the man sigh but refused to watch as he heard his footsteps retreat. If he had decided to leave, Kyungsoo wouldn’t have blamed him.

But when Kyungsoo opened his eyes, the man was still in the room only he was sitting at one of the dressing tables against the wall. It was unclear whether or not he was angry as he had just lit a cigarette and began smoking it as though nothing had happened.

“Are you allowed to smoke in here?” Kyungsoo felt stupid for asking such a question given the circumstances but what else was there to say? Sorry for wanting to fuck you on a makeup table? Hardly. 

The man was having similar thoughts judging by his pregnant pause. “Ah...not really but I know the drag queens.” He pointed towards the shelf of wigs above his head, presumably belonging to said drag queens. He studied Kyungsoo for a moment before holding out the cigarette, gesturing for him to take a drag. 

Kyungsoo perched himself on the edge of the dressing table before gladly taking it out of the man’s hand. He took a long drag before passing it back. 

“I’m Jongin by the way,” the man introduced himself with an outstretched hand. Even his hands were pretty, adorning small tattoos of stars and hearts as well as his nails being perfectly manicured and polished to match his hair colour. 

“Kyungsoo.” 

They passed the cigarette between them until it had shrunk to just a butt. Then they were forced to actually talk to each other.

“I’m sorry for erm...trying to...you know,” Kyungsoo blabbered in an incoherent fashion. 

“Huh? Oh! Don’t worry about that,” Jongin insisted. He was putting out the cigarette on the lid of a pot of bronzer and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but think that wouldn’t go down well. “You are always allowed to ask. Just as I’m allowed to say no.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t argue with that, he supposed.

“Sorry you aren’t getting any tonight, though,” the man sounded somewhat sympathetic but mostly mocking. “If you’re quick, I’m sure there’s plenty of willing partners out there.”

No way was Kyungsoo going back out there now that he had lost both his inebriation and his boner. They got just outside of first base which was more action than Kyungsoo had gotten for months. 

“Nah. I haven’t got the energy,” he complained, a little ashamed of how tired he actually was, “I’m starting to wonder why I even came.”

“Ouch,” Jongin feigned hurt, already taking out another cigarette, “I disappointed you that much, huh?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just,” Kyungsoo cut himself off, debating how much of his tragic love life he was willing to reveal to this man. Then he found he didn’t care anymore and decided to spill it all. “I recently broke up with my boyfriend and I didn’t want to spend Valentine’s on my own. Is that pathetic?”

Jongin shook his head. “Although, if you were looking for love in this place, you probably won’t get it.”

He was right about that much, Kyungsoo thought. Lightning doesn't strike twice and men like Kyungsoo don’t fall in love in the same bar on two separate occasions. Well, never say never, he supposed. Maybe Jongin could be his next love. The thought was almost amusing.

“Anyway. What is a man like you doing here on such a sacred day? Do you not have a special someone?” 

Jongin looked as though he was thinking about something. He looked at Kyungsoo calculatingly before he said another word.

“I’m not the type to go for a special someone…” sensing Kyungsoo’s confusion, Jongin smiled before kindly elaborating, “what I mean is, I am aromantic. So this whole Valentine’s thing is kind of lost on me.”

Oh. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Aromanticism was hardly an alien concept to him but it was something he found rather saddening somehow. It was hard to imagine going his whole life without falling in love with another person. Sure, love could hurt. A lot. But while it lasts, love is fun, enriching, life-enhancing. Love is beautiful. But Jongin would never know that. 

Apparently, Jongin was a mind reader but he responded to Kyungsoo’s exact thoughts. 

“Oh, bloody hell, Kyungsoo! Don’t look at me like that! I’m not dying!”

“S-sorry,” Kyungsoo muttered, feeling a little guilty. Who was he to determine that love was so important anyway? It wasn’t as though his “forever love” had worked out for him. “So...does that mean...you don’t like sex?”

“No, Kyungsoo. That isn’t why I won’t have sex with you.” He seemed amused more than upset but once again, Kyungsoo found himself cringing at his own ignorance. “As a matter of fact, I LOVE sex.”

That statement hardly made Kyungsoo feel much better. If anything he felt way worse. A man who loved sex, no less, was sitting right in front of him but he didn’t want him. Maybe Kyungsoo would just crawl into a hole and die.

“But…” Jongin didn’t stop turning the knife and kept speaking, “there is something I wanted to tell you first. Kyungsoo, has anyone ever told you that you’re really needy? Like you hardly speak but you’re somehow still nagging me!”

“I...sorry?”

Jongin laughed at him heartily and waved a hand at him to stop him from apologising. “It’s fine. I think it’s kind of cute.”

Maybe Kyungsoo was needy but Jongin was utterly exhausting. 

“What did you want to tell me then?” Kyungsoo was growing impatient. 

“I wanted to tell you that I’m trans, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said calmly and clearly as though he had spoken those words one thousand times.

There was little more Kyungsoo could bring himself to do but blink. Maybe there was still some residual alcohol in his system but he couldn’t process what Jongin was telling him.

“You do know that means don’t you?”

“Er yeah,” Kyungsoo wasn’t that lost, “but...so...does that mean...you’re...what?”

“Okay,” Jongin braced himself for an explanation, apparently not expecting Kyungsoo to be so dense, “I am a trans man. I am telling you this now, before we take our clothes off, so I don’t get any nasty surprises from you.”

“From me?”

“Yes, you.”   
  


“Why? What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I stopped you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded. I don’t mind.”

“Good.”

“So can we have sex now?”

“No.” Jongin smiled and poked out his tongue. God, he was insufferable. 

“You don’t look tr-”

In one swift movement, Jongin smushed his index finger against Kyungsoo’s mouth to shush him. Kyungsoo was thankful because he didn’t want to actually say the words that came out of his mouth. He was just stupid, clumsy and still trying to communicate with the most beautiful man he had ever seen without fucking it all up. Sadly, he never was one for social graces. 

“Don’t ruin it,” Jongin instructed him, slowly moving his hand away from Kyungsoo’s mouth. He moved the same hand towards Kyungsoo’s short and ragged hair, running his hands through it as much as he could, even though there wasn’t much hair to work with.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo apologised once again, “it was a terrible attempt at a compliment.”

“No worries,” Jongin inched closer to Kyungsoo and pulled him in at the waist once again until their bodies were pressed together once again. “You don’t need to compliment me. I felt your little friend against my leg earlier. I know how he feels.”

“Did I tell you that you’re really cocky already?” 

Jongin didn’t reply. His response came in the form of another world bending kiss which knocked the wind out of Kyungsoo. He was glad that he was sitting down on the table properly else he would have collapsed on the floor. 

Kyungsoo wondered whether he could have stayed there like that for hours upon hours, just feeling Jongin close to him. 

They kissed just as before, except this time, Jongin was far more hands-on. It was his turn to allow his hands to wander to the waistband of Kyungsoo’s jeans and twirl the metal button around in his fingers. 

“May I?”

Without hesitation, Kyungsoo nodded enthusiastically. He took hold of Jongin’s hand and moved it past beneath the denim, buckling under the sensation of his warm touch. 

Maybe his Valentine's wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

  
  
  



	3. Love is Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanbaek :-*

For the first half of the evening, Chanyeol had reluctantly agreed to work the early shift at the bar. Evidently, the boss man took Valentine’s Day far more seriously than Chanyeol thought was deserved (or he saw it as an opportunity to make more money) so he was instructed to deck the place out in tinsel and sparkles for one night only. 

At least he didn’t have to actually work the bar, Chanyeol thought with a hint of gratitude as he made his way out of the building and towards the bus stop. He was feeling far too angsty to pretend to be pleasant towards the customers and other staff and he was far too nervous to draw his waiting time out even further. 

The bus was pretty busy when he climbed on and found the only spare seat available, being absolutely certain that there was no one who needed it more than him. His destination wasn’t far away from the bar anyway and maybe he needed to stretch his legs a little if only to expend some of his excited energy. 

Despite the number of passengers on the bus, everyone turned to stare at him at the sound of his phone exploding with notifications in his pocket. With an apologetic nod to one particularly irritable elderly woman, Chanyeol retrieved his phone with a wince. He had been a prick back at the bar and while he wasn’t unprovoked, he couldn’t blame the others for laughing and joking with him, either. It wasn’t their fault that he had been so mysterious about the man he was seeing. Why wouldn’t they revert to teasing and taking harmless digs at him? All he hoped was that he wasn’t in for a stream of angry messages from all of his friends.

The first message came from his housemate, Jongin, a simple thumbs up which Chanyeol took to mean he had got lucky. Chanyeol had clearly noticed his friend eyeing up all of the men walking into the bar, weighing up his chances with each one and making sure not to hit on the same guy twice; Jongin had no interest in seconds. Technically, Jongin was supposed to be helping Taemin on the bar, filling in for Chanyeol, but he was far too clumsy and awfully forgetful so Taemin probably gave up on him. In response, Chanyeol sent a winky face, not wanting to encourage any further.

A second lot of messages came from Kibum and Junmyeon, the people Chanyeol had been fearing hearing from the most. 

Kibum: you were a prick back there, Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol felt his heart sink. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know he was out of line in telling Sehun that Junmyeon liked him but he just couldn’t help himself. They had cut deeply by behaving as though the man Chanyeol loved, a man they had never even met, was some kind of older money bags whom Chanyeol used for a quick buck. Chanyeol resented that so much and it hurt him so deeply that he just exploded. Even if they never meant any harm.

Before replying to Kibum, Chanyeol decided he needed to even things over with Junmyeon and apologise profusely, on his knees if he had to. Though it seemed Junmyeon did not deem this necessary if his message was anything to go by.

Junmyeon: I’m not mad at you, Yeollie. You know I can’t be mad at you.

Junmyeon: This isn’t how I wanted to tell Sehun. I didn’t want to tell him at all.

Junmyeon: But you may have just done me a favour Park Chanyeol.

Junmyeon: You got lucky. This time. 

This wasn’t enough for Chanyeol, however, and he still felt the need to apologise for taking the decision to confess to Sehun out of his friend’s hands.

Chanyeol: I’m still sorry, though.

The reply came much quicker than Chanyeol had anticipated. 

Junmyeon: Don’t even worry about it.

Junmyeon: Say hi to him from me, okay?

Chanyeol knew who Junmyeon was referring to and felt a warmth spread from within him at the acknowledgement. Even though the man in question was a complete stranger to Junmyeon, the fact that he still crossed Junmyeon’s mind pleased Chanyeol so much. He couldn’t wait for his friends to meet his special person. 

The apartment block wasn’t exactly on the bus route given that the property was far too luxurious for such peasantries so Chanyeol had no choice but to walk the rest of the way. Sometimes, he would get a lift but he had wanted to get to the apartment first as a surprise. It wasn’t often he got to spend so much time there, after all, given his weird working hours. 

He knew the code to the door which felt like such a big deal, even though it was only a four-number sequence. To him, those numbers meant progress. They meant that his love was warming up to the idea of them being more serious and more permanent. That he was starting to believe Chanyeol when he promised he wasn’t going anywhere. 

As he expected, the apartment was empty and plunged into darkness, aside from the glimmering cityscape that was visible from the huge windows lining the far side of the room. Chanyeol thought it was magical to be able to see the world from one’s home like that. Part of him could understand why people assumed he was in this relationship for the benefits but even the most beautiful skyline in the world was no competition for his love. The race wasn’t even close. 

Speaking of, the apartment was so quiet that Chanyeol could hear footsteps making their way down the hallway outside, along with the telltale click of a cane against the granite flooring. Feeling playful, Chanyeol decided to hide himself behind the coat rack in the doorway, trying not to make too much noise as the lock beeped four times in quick succession.

The door opened and Chanyeol could clearly hear the tell-tale sound that Baekhyun had arrived home. The man was humming lightly under his breath as he always did when he was in a good mood. Chanyeol absolutely adored Baekhyun’s voice, even more when he was relaxed and carefree, not trying too hard. 

“Chanyeol? Are you here?” He called out, his speaking voice just as captivating as his tuneful song. Chanyeol was so deeply in love it physically burned in his chest. 

When he could see that Baekhyun had his back turned, Chanyeol leapt out from behind the coats and grabbed Baekhyun around the waist. The smaller man squealed with unadulterated joy as the taller lifted him in the air and spun him round and round in circles. The clattering of his cane as it knocked against the wall was barely audible above their shared laugher.

“Chanyeol!?” He cried, his face blossoming with an awe-striking smile. Chanyeol could look at his smile all day long and longed to see it even when he closed his eyes. “You scared me! What are y-”

His words were cut off by the gentle collision of lips against his own. Already having forgotten what he was going to say, Baekhyun wrapped his legs around Chanyeol’s waist, clinging on for dear life, and hummed in pleasure into Chanyeol’s mouth. Their kiss was intense and prolonged, both of them making up for lost time. They hadn’t been able to see each other for over a week and the separation was killing them both. 

They only pulled away when the lack of air was sending them both a little light-headed but they didn’t separate entirely. Baekhyun rubbed his cold nose against Chanyeol’s warmer one, giggling at the way the small hairs on his skin tickled slightly. He was so adorable that Chanyeol just wanted to squeeze him tight and never let go. 

“Hi,” Baekhyun spoke quietly, the words intended for Chanyeol and Chanyeol alone.

“Hi.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun once again, addicted to the taste of his mouth. 

Baekhyun smirked down at his boyfriend, his eyes shifting quickly to the ground and back. “You know I only got that cane a week ago? So if you’ve broken it…”

“Shit, sorry,” Chanyeol did feel a bit bad but Baekhyun had dozens of the things, various colours to match every outfit and every mood, canes decorated with his favourite superheroes and his favourite colours. And this new one. “It’s pink and sparkly. Very pink.”

Baekhyun was never one to pass up an opportunity to stand out and if that meant breaking every uniform code in the only way he could get away with, then he would. 

“I think it’s fabulous!” Baekhyun said with a flourish, “now you can either pick it up for me or carry me through to the front room like a blushing bride.”

Of course, Chanyeol opted to carry him bridal style, not passing up the opportunity to treat his boyfriend like royalty, basking in Baekhyun’s gleeful laughter as Chanyeol walked gracefully, humming the bridal march. 

He didn’t, however, place Baekhyun on the sofa with much grace. More so like he was handling a sack of spuds. 

“Ow!” Baekhyun feigned annoyance but Chanyeol could see the slight lift of the corner of his mouth, “Is that how you treat your elders?”

Not having this conversation again, Chanyeol climbed on top of his boyfriend and straddled his hips, drawing his head up with an index finger on his chin. They made out even more passionately now that Chanyeol wasn’t carrying Baekhyun’s entire body in his arms. He looked small but he was rather muscular and a little bit heavy. Chanyeol would never admit that, however, just in case Baekhyun took great offence. Baekhyun may not have had his legs on his side but he certainly knew how to put up a fight. 

“You’re literally 30 years of age, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol exhaled, slightly exhausted by Baekhyun’s insistence that he was somehow elderly and decrepit when he was barely older than Chanyeol. 

“But I’m your sugar daddy, right? That’s what your friends think?” Baekhyun appeared dejected by his own words but he knew they were true. 

“I don’t mind,” Chanyeol reassured him, “I know what you mean to me. You know that I love you. Isn’t that all that counts?”

The simple solution to this dilemma would be to just be honest with his friends about who Baekhyun was, to clear the air instead of giving hints about a mysterious man in an apartment in Gangnam. But like most things in life, it wasn’t that simple. 

See, Baekhyun was the CEO of a very successful fashion company. Hundreds of people relied on him for producing high-quality items on a constant conveyor belt. They needed him to be the face of their company without ever revealing a single private truth about himself. Because once the world knows your secrets, once you let them in, everyone feels as though it’s their right to snoop around. They feel like they know you and that your life is theirs to judge. Baekhyun had accepted long ago that he would be subjected to more than his fair share of scrutiny but he loved Chanyeol far too much to open him up to such judgment. Baekhyun was terrified that complete strangers would question his love for Chanyeol. 

“I love you, too,” Baekhyun replied, unsure if that was enough. Chanyeol deserved to love him loudly and openly and proudly. So great was Chanyeol’s love that Baekhyun wondered how it hadn’t burst out of him already. Even when parcels came to the apartment, Baekhyun wondered whether Chanyeol would blurt his reasons for being the one to open the door, to explain his presence. Because Chanyeol wore his heart on his sleeve whereas Baekhyun had no choice but to keep his hidden away. 

They quickly moved over to the bedroom, taking their kissing to the bed and quickly allowing it to escalate into much more. 

Words had little value at times like those when tensions were high and feelings were overwhelming and complicated. Words confused things where the physical connection between two bodies spoke more truths than Baekhyun or Chanyeol ever could. The love that they held for each other flowed between them like water as their bodies meshed together. Deep down, they both knew that the perception of others towards their love for each other meant nothing at all when they were together like this. Just the two of them against the world.

Reluctant to separate from one another, the pair moved themselves from the bed, still naked and under the blankets and sat on the sofa overlooking the lights of Seoul. While Baekhyun watched the world buzzing around below them, taking in the flickering lights and the rippling of the Han river far in the distance, Chanyeol watched Baekhyun. The stars held little value when Chanyeol could see the moles littering Baekhyun’s youthful face, a face that barely aged but was home to eyes which held such wisdom, so many stories. Chanyeol could listen to those stories all night long. The lights of Seoul were irrelevant because Chanyeol could see them dancing around in Baekhyun’s curious eyes and could see the orange glow lighting up Baekhyun’s bare torso.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Baekhyun said with such loving tenderness. He pulled his eyes away from the view and turned to Chanyeol. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” Chanyeol said simply because it was true. The taller man took hold of Baekhyun’s hand and traced patterns over his palm. Even Baekhyun’s hands were elegant. His fingers were dextrous and long, perfect for his penchant for art and dazzling when they danced across the ivory of his grand piano. Chanyeol liked them best when he could hold onto them, even when no one else could see. “You’re perfect, Baekhyun. I don’t think you have any idea just how perfect you are.”

Baekhyun’s mouth slipped open slightly in surprise, his eyes blinking in disbelief. A stray lash fell onto his cheek as he did so and Chanyeol reached across to take it onto the tip of his finger.

“Make a wish,” he instructed, waiting patiently for Baekhyun to shut his eyes and wish, smiling when his boyfriend blew the lash into the air. 

“I’m not perfect, Chanyeol.” He always claimed such and each time, Chanyeol ached for him. If only Baekhyun could see what Chanyeol could see. If only Baekhyun could see his own kindness, his own affectionate ways, his own caring nature. If only Baekhyun knew the warmth of his hugs, the music in his laughter. Chanyeol longed to bottle all of these things up and hand them back to him so that Baekhyun could see them, too. 

Baekhyun carried on, however, unable to hear Chanyeol’s innermost thoughts. “I’m far too loud, I’m lazy, my legs don’t work,” he tapped the legs in question, holding a hand out to stop Chanyeol from protesting, “I know that it’s not a bad thing and you have made it very clear that my legs are sexy,” he shot Chanyeol a wink, “I have seen my own thighs, don’t you worry. I’m very happy with them.” He chucked at himself before allowing his smile to fade. “But it’s not perfection. And that’s okay. Perfect is boring.” 

“Your mind is so sexy,” Chanyeol responded in awe. 

“As sexy as my ass?” Baekhyun asked innocently as though he hadn’t just given his boyfriend free access to said ass little under an hour ago.

“No way.” 

While on his way home, Chanyeol realised that he hadn’t asked Baekhyun what he had wished for that night. 

They had spoken in the past about what the future would look like for them. There were nights when they would paint elaborate pictures of travels across the world to distant lands, of trips to cities and great wonders which would never be able to compete with their love for one another. Other times they had spent the day together, a rarity given the nature of Baekhyun’s work but, on those occasions, they craved a much simpler life. Maybe they would buy a house in the countryside and make it their own and fill it with love. Maybe they would have children.

“Areum and Haneul,” Baekhyun had suggested one day while they were on a drive to nowhere in particular, “those are the names I’d choose.”

“Why?” 

“Because they’re pretty,” he had said, “just like me.”

Chanyeol thought Baekhyun would make a great father. But equally, Chanyeol truly believed that they could have a wonderful and fulfilling life as just the two of them. Whenever they were apart, they thought of each other and when they were together, they were already mourning their future distance. 

They were absolutely meant to be together forever. 

That’s what Chanyeol had hoped Baekhyun had wished for. He hoped Baekhyun had wished to spend the rest of his life with Chanyeol so that they could experience the wonder of life together. Chanyeol wanted to grow old with Baekhyun, he wanted to go through life’s highs and lows with him, no matter what the cost. When things were tough, he wanted to lean on Baekhyun and when things were magical, he wanted Baekhyun to feel that magic, too. 

That’s what Chanyeol would have wished for. 

“Forever,” was the text he sent to Baekhyun in lieu of saying goodnight. They had already said goodnight and I love you one thousand times before Chanyeol finally pulled himself away.

“Forever. Forever and always,” came the simple reply.

  
  
  



	4. Love is Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xiuchen

Ever since they had started dating, Jongdae and Minseok had spent every single Valentine’s Day together. Even back in high school when they would secretly hold hands on the school bus, they would slide each other cards when no one else was watching. To them, Valentine’s was even more sacred than Christmas and this year was no different.

Now adults with enough money to spare for such frivolities, they had managed to book a table at some fancy Italian restaurant for the evening and like two men who never ate, they devoured half of the menu like kings.

“Fucking hell,” Jongdae clutched his stomach in discomfort as he made his way up the driveway to their shared house, “I really overdid it with that bread.”

Having already warned his boyfriend that his body didn’t take kindly to large amounts of glutenous foods, Minseok only humoured him with a tut while he moved to unlock the front door. It appeared that no one else was home yet which was perfect. Their celebrations didn’t have to come to an end quite so soon. 

“Do I need to massage your belly like a baby?” Minseok asked rhetorically. He wasn’t at all surprised when Jongdae said that, yes, he would like that very much. 

When it came to making the most of their time together, what the couple always chose over everything else was the opportunity to sit in bed together and do absolutely nothing so that was precisely how they decided to end their evening. With Jongdae working long and arduous hours as a teacher to young children as well as Minseok’s role as a nurse, the greatest privilege was to be able to put their feet up and switch off. 

“I brought you a hot chocolate,” Jongdae said as he handed Minseok the delicious-smelling hot drink. 

Minseok had already climbed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed and if he could get his own way, there he would stay for the rest of evening. Come hell or high water. The drink was piping hot and decorated with pink fluffy marshmallows, just as Minseok liked it, and he couldn’t help but feel soft and fuzzy knowing that his boyfriend had thought of him. That he knew him so well. Minseok liked to think that he knew Jongdae like the back of his own hand, too. After all, they were best friends before anything else. Jongdae liked his hot chocolate mint-flavoured and Minseok made a mental note to make him one next time. 

“I had fun today,” Minseok said, blowing on the drink and lifting the hot steam up to warm his cold cheeks. The February air was crisp and icy, an even better reason to stay holed up inside. “We should really do stuff like that more often. Maybe next time we can try the new Japanese restaurant Chanyeol said he went to.”  
  


His boyfriend paused as he was pulling off his jeans and looked at Minseok as though he had grown a second head. 

“You hate Japanese food,” Jongdae recalled in disbelief, “and you have to share tables with strangers you know you’d hate that.”

Minseok just shrugged, “I think it would be romantic...that’s all.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, making a mental note of his adorable pout so that he could remember it the next day if work was particularly grating. In just his boxers, he crawled across the bed to where Minseok was propped up against the headboard and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Hmmm,” Minseok hummed, precariously placing his mug on the table so that it didn’t spill and intertwined his hands with Jongdae’s much warmer, more callus ones. His boyfriend had recently built them a new wardrobe which had done a number on his hands. So very domestic.

“Is sitting at home with me not romantic?” Jongdae questioned, leaving a line of kisses from Minseok’s ear and down to his shoulder where his nightshirt had slipped down.

“Of course it is,” Minseok hummed into his boyfriend’s hair, breathing in the smell of his favourite coconut-scented shampoo. Jongdae had used the same one ever since he was a teenager. He always was a creature of habit. “But how can we make the most of alone time when we are always at home?”

Once again, Jongdae looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “What do you mean alone time? You live in a massive house with five people living in it! We haven’t had alone time...ever!”

They had all moved into the house together - the couple, Junmyeon, Chanyeol, and Yixing - mere weeks after meeting at the bar they all saw as their second home. There was something wonderful about always being in the company of your closest, dearest friends. It felt like they were one giant family, each with their own separate lives, but also with their shared life together. 

But like with all families, privacy was very hard to come by and the couple had often questioned whether they would be better off moving out. Then again, they would probably find the quiet unbearable, even if their own space would feel mighty luxurious. 

“Six,” Minseok corrected his boyfriend, rolling him to his side of the bed so that Minseok could finish his drink, “six other people.”

“What do you mean?”

Minseok wondered whether Jongdae ever listened to anything coming from anyone other than his boyfriend. After all, Junmyeon had told them his plans at dinner the night before and Jongdae had seemingly been nodding along.

“You know. The kid from the bar? Junmyeon asked him to move in with us,” sensing that Jongdae was still lost, Minseok explained further, “he was kicked out of his house and has been living alone so he’s coming here.”

“Awww!” Jongdae cooed, now looking at his phone, probably at some football score, “a baby gay! I can finally impart my wisdom!”

Minseok couldn’t help but ridicule him for that. “You?! Wisdom!? What kind of gay wisdom can you impart? You’ve been basically married for your entire adult life,” Jongdae flinched at that but Minseok ignored him. “What do you know about gay youth?”

Jongdae looked very put out by this. “I have sex with a man every day! What do you mean?”

“Once a week more like,” Minseok tittered at Jongdae’s pout, “if we had sex every day, I’d be the happiest man alive. But my back hurts too much these days.”

Jongdae raised his eyebrows in agreement. That was a pain they certainly shared. 

“We’re a pair of old queens…” Jongdae added with a wrinkled eye smile.”

“Is 37 really that old? I’m in my prime!” Minseok insisted and in many ways, he was. For the first time in his life, he had stability, security and more love than he would ever know what to do with. In his mind, he was as young as he had ever been.

Jongdae leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek and hummed in agreement. This was a sentiment they both shared. 

“How old is the kid?” 

“Erm…” Minseok sorted through the information in his mind to pull out a number, “21? Maybe.”

“Shit.” 

“Already a drag queen,” Minseok added with a telling look. They would never have imagined such a thing at that age.

“Fucking hell,” Jongdae whistled in surprise, “he could probably teach us a thing or two!”

  
  


After hanging around in bed for a few hours, talking aimlessly around and around in circles about things they had talked about one million times before, Minseok headed downstairs with a warm heart. 

Despite eating half of the restaurant, Jongdae had insisted that Minseok go downstairs and cook his ‘secret sandwich’ which was really just a cheese toastie with a bit of mustard in it. Minseok was convinced Jongdae knew that and that he was mostly really lazy. 

The house was no longer empty when he arrived downstairs and he found Chanyeol sitting on the sofa, flicking through a book in his lap. The others would surely return home soon given that it was already well into the early hours of the morning. The club usually shut at 2 am so they would be booted out in no time at all.

“Hey, Chanyeol. You alright?” 

The younger man hadn’t heard him come in and looked up from his book in surprise. 

“Oh, hi, Minnie.” He sounded tired and far from his usual bubbly self. He was often that way when he left the house of his mystery man. Minseok wished he would tell somebody why. “I’m alright.”

Minseok placed the food in a frying pan and poured Chanyeol a glass of juice before making his way over to sit with him. 

“You don’t sound alright to me,” Minseok tried to sound as sympathetic as possible. He wanted Chanyeol to open up, “what’s wrong?”  
  


The younger man shook his head, as he always did. He was so reluctant to open up and that was more concerning to Minseok that the fact that no one knew where he was going when he vanished for days on end. 

“What you reading?” He opted for, instead. Deciding it was probably safe enough to ask.

“Erm...it’s a book of…” he laughed awkwardly, blushing slightly before he spoke, “it’s a book of love poems…”

After a brief moment of confusion, Minseok’s face contorted as he tried to hold in his laughter. He wasn’t making fun of Chanyeol, he just thought it was the most cliche display of romance he had ever seen. 

“Sorry,” he covered his smile with his hand, “I’m not laughing at you. Is that from...you know. Him?”

Chanyeol nodded, smiling at the mental image of a man that Minseok couldn’t see. It wasn’t that he longed to see it, either. He just wanted to be sure that his friend was happy. He felt as though it was his responsibility as his elder to ensure his happiness. 

“What’s his name, Chanyeol?” He asked carefully, not wanting to push him to the edge but also feeling that it may help Chanyeol, to be a little more honest. “You might feel better if you tell someone. I won’t go spreading it around. Promise.” The last part was light-hearted but he didn’t mean it any less.

“You promise you won’t tell anyone?” Chanyeol looked Minseok dead in the eyes, his gaze severe and unwavering. He didn’t speak again until Minseok nodded. “His name is Baekhyun…”

Minseok almost couldn’t believe he had shared that information, trying to hide the way his eyes widened in shock. But he was so relieved he had, especially when he saw the way in which Chanyeol’s own features softened.

“That’s such a pretty name,” Minseok told him, not wanting to ask further questions in case he made Chanyeol uncomfortable, “I hope I can meet him one day.”

“Me too,” Chanyeol whispered, his words carrying so much weight and his eyes an equal mix of hope and sadness. 

  
  


By the time Minseok was making his way back upstairs, he had received a load of messages from Jongdae wondering where he was, claiming that he was close to starving. No one who had eaten the amount of food Jongdae had that day would ever go hungry ever again. 

“I’m here, Dae! Will you open the door? I’m balancing plates!”

Jongdae made no movement to actually open the door, nor did he make any sound. Then the door handle moved downwards just enough to unlatch it, no further move made to open the door.

“Jesus, Dae,” Minseok complained, awkwardly kicking the door open with his foot, trying not to drop anything, “you’re so fucking lazy! You might be slightly above 21 but you aren’t an old aged pensioner yet.”

In amongst his chuntering, Minseok didn’t properly look around the room and walked right in, not taking note of the dimmed lights.

“Are we playing hide and seek or something?” He turned to close the door with his foot before making his way into the bedroom. When he finally looked around, he was so stunned that he dropped the plates on the floor. 

While he had been downstairs, Jongdae had transformed the room entirely. The big light had been turned off to make way for a string of fairy lights lining the curtain pole and wrapping around the bed frame. The bed itself was littered with rose petals which Minseok would normally find tacky but, knowing they were for him, he felt himself welling up.

“What’s all thi-”

He cut himself off as soon as he saw Jongdae, his question already answered.

Because Jongdae was on the floor, perched on one knee, holding out a box with a soft gold band resting on a blue velvet cushion. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jongdae asked, never passing up the opportunity to be cheeky.

Of course, it was more than obvious but Minseok wasn’t any less shocked. He could hardly speak, not knowing what to say. He knew his answer; he had known what his answer would be for a very, very long time. But this was such a significant event in both of their lives, he didn’t want to mess it up. It didn’t help that he was already weeping. 

“What are you doing you silly prick?!” Was what he decided to say, very romantically. 

Jongdae didn’t take any offence, however, knowing well enough how Minseok reacted to surprises. Not very graciously, evidently. 

They stood there for a beat too long, simply looking at each other and savouring the moment. Minseok could hardly believe it. He knew Jongdae loved him and he knew their love was forever and could never be beaten but actually seeing him sitting there, holding out the ring with love and affection practically pouring out of him well, it felt like a fairytale. 

“Well!” Minseok snapped, his heart racing and feeling too nervous for social graces, “ask me then!” 

At the order, Jongdae cleared his throat and straightened his back. 

“Okay,” he took a deep breath, “Kim Minseok, will you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?” He winced, “that was really shit. Let me try again. Kim Mins-”

Losing patience, Minseok walked over to Jongdae in two steps and plucked the ring from the box. He hardly looked at it before placing it on his ring finger. Then he grabbed a surprised Jongdae by the scruff off his pyjama shirt and pulled him to his feet. 

“Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

Jongdae beamed, as though Minseok’s answer was somehow in doubt. 

“Now kiss me.” 

Jongdae was hardly going to say no to that so he pulled Minseok in by the back of his head and practically ravished him. They kissed so hard and with such fervour that they both lost balance, only just stopping themselves from falling on the ground by angling their bodies over their bed. There, they tumbled onto the pile of rose petals, blowing them up into the air. 

Like something out of a movie, Minseok looked down at his fiance - he hoped he wouldn’t be calling Jongdae that for too long - and admired him as a flurry of petals cascaded downwards and landed around his head. 

“I love you so much.”

Jongdae stared back at him before replying. “I know. I love you, too.”

Minseok kissed Jongdae quickly before asking him a very serious question. 

“Will you, Kim Jongdae, honour our love by taking my surname?” He fluttered his eyes innocently. 

Jongdae laughed before rolling them over so that Minseok was now splayed out underneath him. 

“Kim Minseok,” he said in all seriousness, “nothing would make me prouder.”

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Love is Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yixing and OT9

“I really have to go home now, baby,” Yixing spoke quietly, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his daughter’s bed, “the last bus is coming soon and I can’t miss it.”

The look of pure devastation on his daughter’s face hit Yixing like a bullet to the heart. The worst feeling as a parent was having to leave her like this, even after they had spent the entire day together on their pretend Valentine’s date, their time together would never be enough.

“Why can’t you sleep here?” Yerim asked, perfectly reasonably. To her, there was no reason why her dad couldn’t sleep in her house. He loved spending time with her, she loved being around him and he wanted to stay. So, why couldn’t he?

Sometimes, Yixing asked himself the very same question but he could go around in circles all night long wondering whether his arrangement with his ex was fair, whether he should be allowed to spend more time with his daughter. But such inner conflict would be wasted when he could simply walk away, maintain quietude, and come back the next weekend when he would be welcomed. How did he explain this to a 5-year-old? Well, that was his dilemma. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he pulled the bedsheets tighter around her small body, hoping that the snugness would make her feel safe, even if he couldn’t be there to ensure that himself. “I promise I will see you next weekend.”

Yerim nodded. She looked saddened but she didn’t dispute his words any further. Sometimes, Yixing wondered whether the situation between her mother and father had forced her to grow up a little too quickly. Many children didn’t have to battle to understand why their dad didn’t share a bed with their mother and Yixing longed for a reality in which he could give that to her. But he couldn’t.

“I had fun today, daddy,” Yerim attempted to lighten the mood which worked but also served to make Yixing feel a little guilty.

“Me too, dumpling,” he ruffled her already messy hair with great affection, “you are the best date I’ve ever had!” 

When he finally pulled himself away and began the walk home, he ran their day over in his mind to try and lessen the pain of having to walk away at all. 

In his hand, he held a small rose she had crafted for him out of red craft paper and he knew that he would cherish it forever. Often, when Yerim made things at school, they would automatically go on her mother’s fridge and though it was such a small and insignificant thing, Yixing wished that one day he would get to put something on his fridge. He would display it for all of his housemates to see so that they knew how proud he was of his daughter. Although, he suspected they already knew; Yermin was all he talked about.

The house was bustling with people when he returned, all of the lights on despite the very late hour. Yerim often had trouble falling asleep when she knew her dad had to go home so he had tried to stay as long as physically possible. It was comforting to know that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the night all alone drowning in his misery. 

When he opened the front door, he was immediately hit with a gust of warm air and excitable chatter, as he often did. Their home was filled with such happiness and such love that coming back at the end of every day was such a privilege. 

“I’m home!” He called while he kicked off his shoes. 

“Yixing!” Junmyeon ran out into the hall to meet him, jumping about like a child at Christmas, “you’re home! Come look!” He couldn’t wait for Yixing to start moving so he grabbed his hand and pulled into the front room, “come on!”

The living room was fit to burst with even more people than usual. Crowded on the sofa was Chanyeol, his legs too long to fit on the seat sideways but he made a decent go of it, looking a little bit like a giant in a human house. Yerim always asked Chanyeol if he was actually a real-life friendly giant and the man always said. He was a bit like a playful child himself sometimes. 

On the floor sat Jongin, his legs wrapped up in those of a man Yixing had never seen before. Yixing wondered if Jongin had somehow found a date for the day but he knew well enough that he wouldn’t have. Besides, they were engaged in some kind of heated discussion with a lot of arm-waving. Knowing Jongin, they were probably arguing about comic books or the like. 

Junmyeon whispered in his ear, very discreetly, “that’s Kyungsoo. Jongin seems to have taken to him. Says he was lonely!” Junmyeon shivered at Jongin’s out-of-character behaviour. He never was a philanthropist. 

The single armchair was occupied by a young man Yixing recognised from the club. Sehun, he remembered. It was a great relief to see him sitting there, admiring something on Minseok’s hand with a look of awe. Junmyeon had been worried that he would decline their offer of a new home. 

“Hey, Yixing,” Jongdae greeted, handing him a glass of champagne. 

“What’s all this for?” He asked but he still took a huge sip, relishing in the feeling of the bubbles bursting on his dry tongue. He hadn’t had a drink since that afternoon. 

Everyone looked at him knowingly and simultaneously turned their heads to Minseok. He was standing there in the middle of the room, wiggling his fingers, a gold band catching the light. Jongdae looked very smug.

“Oh my God!” He was smiling so wide he thought his cheeks would split! He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “You-”

Minseok nodded, welling up himself which automatically set Yixing off. Yixing gathered him up in a hug and spun him around, everyone else in the room bursting into a round of applause, a few whistles filling the air. 

“I’m so happy for you! For both of you!” 

It was a wonderful thing, Yixing thought, to have the privilege of standing in a room filled with so much love. To have a heart bursting with so much love of so many kinds. 

Yixing usually hated Valentine’s day because it was a day that stood for everything he didn’t believe he had. All of his relationships had failed, he wasn’t able to teach his daughter what love looked like, nor was he able to teach her what love looked like. Of course, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Yixing absolutely had a life brimming with love, so much love that he didn’t know where to place it. He loved his daughter so much that it hurt at times. He loved his friends so much that his problems felt so insignificant in their presence. He loved his friends’ love. 

He loved the love in Junmyeon’s eyes as he looked over at Sehun when the younger man wasn’t paying attention. 

He loved Jongdae’s love which was physically shown through the ring on Minseok’s finger, shining for all to see. 

He loved Jongin’s understanding that romantic love wasn’t the only thing a person needs to be happy. He loved how much he loved Jongin and all of his friend’s.

He even loved Chanyeol’s love. A love for a man who wasn’t quite ready to love him loudly. Perhaps Chanyeol’s love was the greatest of all because he was able to hold on to it, even when the man he cared about more than anything in the world wasn’t around to see him. Chanyeol’s love transcended distance. 

Most of all, Yixing loved the love he had for his daughter. With pride, and to the backdrop of even more cheering and whooping, he stuck the paper rose to the fridge. 

Yixing thought this was the best Valentine’s day he had ever experienced. And he longed for many, many more days like that one.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very very fast and I can hardly move my hands now so I hope it's fine? It is an experiment more than anything. I have wanted to write about these versions of all members for years and couldn't manage to find a plot so I sort of just...threw them all together. It isn't much, I know but I hope you liked it somewhat all the same. 
> 
> Happy Valentine's! Thank you for reading! Love is gratitude - lots of love to you! Hehe!
> 
> As always comments and kudos make my whole day every single time! Follow me on Twitter if you like @yeoloutof10 
> 
> Til next time, BYE!


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